Chapter Text
Now would be good, Keith thinks to himself. He does a quick mental run-down of ongoing and reoccurring arguments between them.
Smoking. Keith looks to his jacket clad arm and tries to remember if he put new nicotine patch on his arm that morning. Not that it mattered. He’s so stressed being around all eight of his adopted siblings right now he could smoke a whole pack in one go.
Communication. Shiro’s apt to hold things in and try to fix them himself because he believes that a bulk of their problems can be fixed inwardly. Eh. Working on it.
The dishes. Fuck it. Shiro’s good enough he’d actually start doing dishes regularly.
So yeah, now would be perfectly acceptable. Not perfect. Acceptable. If things went the way he wanted them to go he’d have to beg Shiro to stay quiet about it through dinner. He’d still do it though. Now would be a pretty good time.
If Edith and Rosalind’s house hadn’t been big enough to accommodate eleven people when he and Lance were growing up, it certainly wasn’t big enough to accommodate eleven adults and their growing number of spouses, children, and friends that had nowhere to go for Thanksgiving.
Keith had needed to go out for fresh air and Shiro tagged along. Naturally, they ended up by the old tire swing. What used to be the pinnacle of his formative years now sat sad and drooping from the old elm tree.
It took seconds for them to start playing around on it. For such a serious guy, Shiro could cut loose a lot easier than most people would expect.
Shiro pushes him on the swing. They push and shove until they’re both on the swing and making it go lopsided as they try to gain momentum. Before he can stop and think about how juvenile it is, Shiro has jumped out of the swing and into the pile of orange brown leaves nearby.
He almost flies off of the swing and into the creek due to the shift in weight.
Then Shiro’s goading him, “I bet you can’t jump as far as I did,” which is stupid because Keith’s been practicing this for years. Of course he can.
“I don’t bet.” Keith says back in response. “I know that you’re wrong.”
So then he’s launching himself off the swing. He doesn’t mimic Shiro’s graceful decent and landing. He certainly doesn’t land on his feet. Instead, he finds himself sliding across the damp fallen leaves, and headlong into Shiro.
He’s pretty sure Lance had broken his arm once in a manner that was very similar. He should fake a sprained arm or something just to see the look on Shiro’s face.
It quickly devolves into an impromptu wrestling match. Shiro’s probably just pissy that he did in fact jump further than him. Even tempered and fair handed Takashi Shirogane has one hell of a competitive streak.
Yeah, now would be a fantastic time really. With Shiro all but grinding his face into the wet leaves. Being almost crushed by the fullness of Shiro’s bodyweight. He’d get all embarrassed and flustered.
Keith manages to shimmy out of Shiro’s grasp and knock him onto the ground. “Give up?” He asks.
“I don’t think it’s the appropriate time to be asking that.” He doesn’t have a ring or anything, he doesn’t really need one. He’s had some time to think this through, so why not do it?
“Hey,” A voice calls to the house. “Stop fucking around. It’s dinner time.”
Keith rolls his eyes and forces himself upward. Now that they’ve been interrupted the game doesn’t even matter. Fucking Edith. Fucking Thanksgiving.
When they enter the house it’s loud and hot and crowded. All of this is acutely amplified by the fact that Shiro’s holding on to his hand like it’s his only lifeline. It means that he’s supposed to feel comfortable. These people are supposed to be his clan. He loves them dearly, but he’d rather be anywhere else in the world right now than at one of the many folding card tables they’ve shoved together and snaked in and out of the dining room and living room.
It doesn’t exactly register right away. There’s a commotion going on, but there always is when you get three or more McClains together in the same room. There’s some yelling too, which is a staple for any family gathering even if it’s just so you can have your voice heard over all of the rest. So it takes him awhile to get it.
“You didn’t have a ceremony?” They’re off in the living room arguing, but Keith can tell that it’s Mike talking.
“We’ve been together for 20 years. Why waste everyone’s time and money with that?”
“When did this happen?” That was undeniably Lance.
“July,” is said in response.
“July? It’s NOVEMBER now mother.” Mac, needlessly histrionic, chimes in.
“We had to wait until you were all together. We couldn’t tell you individually. Tell one, everyone else finds out, but they’re upset they didn’t hear it from us first.”
Followed up by another incredulous cry of, “MOTHER.”
Okay, so it doesn’t take him awhile. It takes Shiro nudging him in the ribs and asking, “Did your moms get married?”
And like, damn Shiro way to be more perceptive of his family issues than he is.
Keith can feel the gears begin to turn in his head. It did all kind of make sense. The unplanned vacation at the end of July…Rosalind does not travel. The new bands. They’d been wearing rings for years, and he did find it suspicious when Rosalind waved a new diamond under his nose a few months ago and said, “Look what Edie got me.”
At dinner Rosalind insists that Shiro sit next to her. She hasn’t seen him since the Labor Day party and this is a huge issue.
Keith doesn’t mind. Shiro can do all the talking for him while he agonizes about having his thunder stolen by his adoptive parents.
“Congratulations to both of you,” Shiro says with a smile because Shiro is Shiro. A goddamn beacon of politeness wrapped in gold.
“It’s nothing,” but Rosalind makes sure to wave the diamond in his face anyway.
“At any rate, we had to set an example for the kids.”
Keith can feel her eyes drift to him, and then shift down the row to Lance, then Martin, and finally Mike. With most of the older McClain girls settling down (Toni being the firm exception) it was now the middle batch’s turn.
Normally he’d ignore Rosalind’s comments and purposefully pick a fight with Lance to change the course of conversation and piss her off. Now he just wants to scream at her, “I’m trying goddamnit.” But the moment is gone now, and even if there is another bit of tooth rotting tenderness between them this afternoon, it has to be shelved.
Because these kinds of things have to be their own moment or something right? You can’t ride off your parent’s coattails like that. That’s lame right? Carefully, he whips his phone out underneath the table and asks Lance.
A few minutes later a buzzing sound and a quick glance at his phone confirms that it is in fact, “Lame.”
“Now Shiro,” Edith scoots behind them so she can sit on the opposite end of the table. “Here’s the real question. She took out a supplementary life insurance policy on me. Should I feel concerned?”
He can feel Lance’s gaze lock onto him. It lingers obnoxiously and makes him feel like he’s got a rash. “Seriously?” He mouths across the table.
“Yeah?” He mouths back with shrugged shoulders.
“Yeah?” Lance mouths back. His face is contorted into a look of semi-horror.
Keith’s eyes threaten to roll back into his head and stay there permanently because he’s so fed up with the situation. Instead, he directs his attention to the ugly “ivy and roman column” themed border that disgraces walls at the place where ceiling meets wall. It’s peeling in places from years of not having a functioning drier and water leaks from upstairs. His phone buzzes in his lap again pulling him from his detailed analysis of the shitty wallpaper situation. “I think you need to think about this more.” Lance texts back in response.
What else can there be to think about?
“Keith. Please, you made me wait all day.”
He’s got Shiro face down on his their giant mattress, and he’s knuckle deep in the most perfect human he’s ever met in his entire life. He’s thought about it, and there’s nothing more to think about. “Hm?” He says coyly as if he’s not quite sure he knows what Shiro’s talking about. It’s absolutely amazing, how one night Shiro can manhandle him until he has very dark very Shiro shaped thumb prints on his thighs and his hips, and the next night he can be so receptive to the point of being needy.
“Wait for what?” But he makes sure to crook his fingers in response.
It makes Shiro arch his back even more somehow, and it makes Keith throb.
“Your cock,” he says shamelessly.
“Oh,” Keith says, maintaining the tone that indicates that this is a complete surprise. He removes his fingers and readjusts so that he lines up with Shiro’s hips, parts his legs slightly, and thrusts in with one fluid motion. “Wouldn’t want to keep you waiting then.”
He wants to make it really good for Shiro. Wants to last for forever, but he can’t. Shiro’s talkative tonight and that always gets him over the edge faster than he should. “You feel incredible Keith,” and other filthy things like, “Didn’t like taking it much before I met you.”
Not to mention he’s love drunk on all the sappy shit he’s been thinking about all day. It doesn’t take long for him to come.
Luckily Shiro’s not far behind.
“Shiro,” it’s not what he’d wanted to say earlier, but it will do. A jumbled wreck of syllables tumble out of his mouth. They’re meant to sound like, “I love you.”
Shiro must get it because he responds,” Love you too.”